Flickering Hope
by portkeytoreality
Summary: When Aragorn returns to Imaldris, Elrond is desperate for him to stay. But when evil strikes Mirkwood, can family and friends survive, let alone hold fast? Rated T for possible pain and suffering.
1. Chapter 1

Hello lovely people!

My name is Uiriel, and this is my first ever LotR fanfiction. Actually, it's my first ever fanfiction.

Im kind of really nervous about this, and I'm pretty sure this first one is and will continue to be rather lacking. All the same, please read and review so that I'll learn how to improve! Thank you all for tapping on my little story!

Gîl síla erin lû e-govaded vín. [A star shines upon the hour of our meeting.]

Uiriel

Aragorn slowly approached Elrond's study and knocked.

No answer.

He stood straight, waiting a few moments to see if the door would swing open.

It never did.

Minutes passed. After watching the door for awkward minutes he returned to his room.

They had fought bitterly. Aragorn had just returned from a mission with the Dúnedain. For the first few days, the man had been content to roam through Imaldris with his two respective brothers. Elrond had let them go, despite the weariness and pain in his heart. During these times the Last Homely House was silent, filled with neither his bickering twins nor his ever-radiant daughter nor the young and bubbling Estel of youth. The twins, though still bickering, had been touched by the evil around them, as had Arwen, who had left to reside with her grandmother, Galadriel. Even his wife had left him, sailing for the Undying Lands. When Estel had arrived, he felt his Hope seep back into the plants and trees of his fair Rivendell. But soon the mortal child was grown, and though his eyes still glimmered with Hope, that shine had left Rivendell with him.

Now it had returned in the young man, and Elrond's old heart had leapt for joy with the coming of his adoptive son. And so for many days he had allowed Aragorn to roam freely and silenced his yearning heart. But upon the fifth day of his son's visit, Elrond could take no more.

"No, you may not venture to Mirkwood." Elrond's eyes were alight, which made all his sons recoil, their muscles tense.

"Lord Elrond, I meant no dishonor," Aragorn tried to explain, but Elrond would have none of it. Lord Elrond? Am I not regarded as his father anymore?

"It is enough." He silenced the man.

The twins glanced at each other fearfully from across the round table. They had known of Aragorn's request, and had suggested that he wait to state it. Their brother had not listened, but had instead asked them to accompany him to visit Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood and his closest friend. After some discussion they agreed, but continued to advise Aragorn to wait until his trip would be more favorable. The ranger had ignored their pleas.

Now he sat across from his adoptive father, his face betraying his confusion. Elrond stared angrily down at his plate.

"Forgive me, but I do not understand your disapproval. I've have made this trip many times, and I have asked the twins to accompany me..."

Elrond's eyes widened. His head turned to Elladan on his right, then to Elrohir on his left. They both cringed.

"You knew of this?" Elrond's voice was dangerously low. "You knew and did not tell me? Worse, you wold join him!" His voice had risen to a shout, one that echoed through the halls of the Last Homely House and alerted all within of the lord's wrath.

"Ada, forgive us, we only meant to—" Elladan began.

"—to assist him when the time to leave should come," Elrohir finished. "We did not encourage him."

Elrond's eyes swept from Elladan to Elrohir, then came to rest on Estel. "You are to remain within doors until directed otherwise. This is an order, Aragorn." Rarely did the Lord of Imaldris refer to his son using his birth name. He stood and turned to leave.

The ranger's mouth fell open. "By what authority? I am grown now, Ada! I am leader of the rangers of the North. You cannot confine me to this building!"

Elrond whipped around. "As Lord of Imaldris, I condemn you to remain under my roof! Failure to comply is punishable by whatever I decide. You dare ask me by what authority? Discover this for yourself. You are dismissed."

"Ada..."

"You are DISMISSED!"

Elrond's back was again to the table. Glancing between his two brothers, Aragorn gathered his things and went to the exit. He looked at his father with fear as he passed. Elrond regarded him with fury. Soon the ranger was gone, and the room fell to a heavy silence.

The twins stood, gathering their plates and turning in the opposite direction of their father. They then exited, going to the kitchen.

Elrond listened to his sons' escape, but did not turn. Hearing them leave, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Turning back, he stared at the two half-finished plates, the closest his own, the farthest Estel's. Bending wearily, he took his own dishes in his hands, then crossed the table to reach for his son's. Bearing both, he slowly followed the steps of his two sons, down to the kitchen.

In Mirkwood, a similar yet opposite situation was unfolding.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello lovelies!

Thank you for continuing to the next chapter! I wrote the next chapter on paper, so it will take some time to type up. I'll have it soon! Be sure to review.

Uiriel

Later that same night, an attendant knocked on Legolas' door. "Master Legolas, your father requests you present."

Legolas falls onto the edge of his bed clumsily, wearing nothing but his trousers. "Not now," he hurriedly spoke. "Send him my regards. I will see him at first light tomorrow."

Legolas relaxed as he heard the attendant leave. His head spun, dizzy with exhaustion, he was sure.

He had just returned from a successful patrol. Only minor injuries were sustained by four of his party, a record low anymore. Of course, he was among the four. An orchoth [host of orcs] had attacked a group of young elves, new to the patrols. Legolas had instinctively protected them, only to suffer a slight cut from the blade of the monster. The injury itself was minor, but his father was not pleased to see the wound.

"And when did this happen?" Thranduil asked coldly as soon as Legolas entered the room.

The elf knew exactly what his father meant. "Only in the last two hours of patrol. It is minor—"

"Does that make it acceptable?" Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "Any injury is abominable, Legolas. How often must we go over this? You were to return unharmed—"

"That is growing more difficult, Ada [father]." Legolas tried to suppress his anger. "Spiders now crawl throughout the greenwood, greenwood being now a loose term; most the forest is brown. Brown with decay. It is good that I return with so few injuries to count, and that one fell upon me I am glad, for many more could have fallen upon the elves under my watch had I not sustained this one." He looked at his father with a calm stance, not betraying the weariness that filled him from days fighting the monsters of the forest. His eyes, however, held fire.

"And would you sacrifice the future King of Mirkwood for the sake of a single elf? That would spell certain doom for the kingdom."

Legolas paled with fury. "Yes, I would." His eyes were daggers.

Thranduil met his gaze coolly. "You, my son, have much to learn of your role as king."

"Make me not a king, then!"

Thranduil stood. "You are my sole heir, no matter how much you despise it."

Legolas had heard enough. "My report is this: Orcs roam along the southern border, and spiders continue to congregate the nearby forest. Now I take my leave. Good evening to you, adar [father]." With that, Legolas left the room, ignoring his father's calls.

"Legolas!"

The hall fell to silence. Thranduil's head dropped wearily into his hand.

Legolas passed through the halls of Mirkwood in a rage. He could feel his temperature rising. It was a blessing when he finally reached his room.

Immediately he closed the door and fell into a chair. How could his father disregard another eleven life? The immortals were young, even younger than he. How could he have left them to die?

Of course, your faulty aim almost failed them. The thought was unbidden, but he couldn't push it aside.

After the initial yrch [orc] attack, Legolas had fired arrows at the approaching party. They had originally been at the southern border but had followed the elves north, toward the palace. Legolas' aim had been true... or rather, it should have been. It had seemed true. He had aimed as he always did, but the arrows had only slowed the orcs. He had aimed to kill.

With a sigh, he realized he would have to tell his father of the north-bound orcs. His temper was now under control, though he felt that his face was still flushed. He stood and went to his water pitcher. Cupping his hand he poured the water into his palm, sipping at the cool liquid. Then he dumped some water into a basin to wash his face.

With a start the realized just how hot his face had grown. He quickly splashed more water on his face, bending further as he did so. Bile rose in his throat, and his head snapped upward. His face stared back at him, a reflection in the mirror. His eyes were wide, his face ruddy, as if Strider had embarrassed him. And the bile...

He held tight to his vanity, not realizing he did so out of necessity. As he panted, he heard the knock at the door.

"Master Legolas, your father requests you present."

His father. Certainly he wanted to set things right between them, but he couldn't let anyone see him in this state. Especially not his father.

"Send him my regards. I will see him at first light tomorrow." Legolas tried to go to the door but failed miserably, collapsing next to his bed.

Legolas heard the elf walk away. Leaning against his bed, he tried to stand, but fell into a sitting position one the edge of his mattress.

He gasped for air. Panting considerably, he leaned across his bed, vomiting as he lay perpendicular on his bed. Now shaking, he turned, lying on his right shoulder, almost on his stomach. Trembling, he focused on breathing—only to vomit again onto his sheets and floor.

Legolas' heart raced with fear. Unknown to him, his eyes closed, and he fell into a sickly and feverish stupor.

He did not go to his father at dawn.


End file.
